She heard a sound and turned to see Kynaston going back upstairs. He stumbled on one step, then hurried on.
Chapter 4
“Upset him, that did,” Ethel said.
She’d stayed by the stairs and Ariana had completely forgotten she was there. Had Ethel sensed anything of Ariana’s reactions to Kynaston, or had everything appeared normal? And why on earth had Kynaston fled, discourteously abandoning his escort duty? From fear of an ancient coffin?
Ariana let the oil lamp return to vertical, returning the mummy to the shadows. “It upsets me,” she said. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Why should it,” Ethel said, coming forward, “any more than any other tomb or memorial? I wonder why we’ve never thought of painting portraits on the outsides of coffins.”
Ariana shouldn’t have been surprised that Ethel was discussing the matter in a prosaic way, but she was tempted to tell her to be quiet. That would have been irrational. The vibrant image was of a person long dead,and as Ethel said, it was no more eerie than the stone effigies in Boxstall church.
“It’s a clever portrayal,” Ethel added, “but no one would see it once the coffin was buried. Did the Egyptians not bury their dead?”
“There were different practices at different times,” Ariana said, trying to be as calm. “But I don’t think mummy cases were buried.”
“Then did the bereaved visit them as we visit graves?”
“Possibly.” Ariana wasn’t sure that seeing such a picture of her father on his tomb would comfort her.
Ethel might have had the same thought. “Do you think they painted them as they were in death, or in their prime?”
“What a question!”
“But if you die at eighty, would you want to be remembered like that or as you were as a young woman?”
“I’d like to be remembered at my best. Who wouldn’t?” Ariana said. “So this lady might have died of old age after a long and blessed life.”
Ariana liked that idea, but when Ethel said, “I doubt it,” she wasn’t surprised.
This wasn’t a portrait of a woman in the prime of life, but of a girl on the brink. She could have been as young as sixteen, and no more than twenty. A tragedy lay behind the mummy and Ariana couldn’t bring herself to poke among the other contents of the room. All the same, it seemed cruel to leave—to abandon the girl once more to her dusty corner.
Ethel picked up her disquiet. “She’s been dead two thousand years or more. She can’t care.”
Ariana extinguished the lamp and picked her way carefully back up the awkward stairs, knowing that was true, but feeling like a traitor all the same.
Then there was that moment with Kynaston at her side to disturb her. It clearly hadn’t meant anything to him, unless that was why he’d fled the cellars.
As she emerged into the hall, she saw Mr. Peake approaching. “I was just coming to find you, Lady Ariana. The talk is about to begin. You won’t want to miss it.”
Ariana might, for it sounded like nonsense, but she wanted more information about the lady in the mummy case.
“The Egyptian mural is lovely,” she said as they went toward the stairs. “And it seems you have many other treasures below.”
“I do. I do. Soon I’ll find places for them around the house.”
Even the mummy? That felt wrong.
“Lord Kynaston is still below?” Peake asked.
“He came up first. I wonder where he is.”
Mr. Peake shrugged. “The nobility have their ways,” he said, ignoring the fact that Ariana was also noble. She rather liked that. “Come along.”
As they started up the stairs, he said, “That Egyptian stuff isn’t mine. I mean, I didn’t collect it. Never been to Egypt. Belonged to Lord Ombrow, but he’s rolled up from too much collecting and too much card playing. Sold up and gone abroad. Seemed a shame to see the collection broken up, so I bought it.”
They were about to enter the drawing room, where people were seated, ready for the talk, so Ariana quickly asked, “The young woman?”
